


Message Received

by HeartHarps



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Football, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-18
Updated: 2018-06-18
Packaged: 2019-05-24 20:01:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,644
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14961230
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HeartHarps/pseuds/HeartHarps
Summary: Jack looked at Bitty. "I'm sorry.""Don't sweat it sweetheart," Bitty said, settling into one of the chairs outside the office. "Coach ain't that tough with me."Jack chose the chair next to Bitty. "So you obviously know football, why don't you play for us?"Or, the one where Bad Bob is one of the best quarterbacks of all time, but Bitty felt like controlling the conversation that day.





	Message Received

**Author's Note:**

> Probably not entirely accurate with regards to the NCAA SEC football league. Influenced by my own experience with the Canadian counterpart, CIS/SIC.  
> I spent a long time looking at ages and ended up changing them anyways. Hopefully we can look past this egregious offence together for the sake of the story. :)  
> Inspired by the [iconic extra sketch](http://omgcheckplease.tumblr.com/post/138099406297).

“You’re Bitty? It’s nice to meet you. I’m–”   
“Jack Zimmermann. I know. My daddy talks about his quarterbacks more than he talks about the weather," Bitty said flatly. Coach had insisted Mama Bittle and Bitty come meet his new team at the University of Georgia before the regular season started, but that didn't mean Bitty had to like it. Everyone knew who Jack was anyways, given his father, Bad Bob, is one of the best quarterbacks of all time, but Bitty felt like controlling the conversation that day.   
When Jack started showing looking nervous, Bitty extended a goodie bag.   
"Go Bulldogs," He said, and moved on.   
  
\+ 3 games later   
"Hey Coach? Oh," Jack Zimmermann said, sliding into the open doorway to Coach Bittle's office.   
Bitty looked up from his father's chair and gave a tense smile. "He's not here."   
"Right. When will he be back?" Jack asked, seeming serious, but not anxious.   
Bitty threw a glance at the clock. "15 minutes maybe."   
Jack nodded. "I'll wait."   
But as he went to leave, Bitty said, "That was a nice run last week," Referring to the UGA Bulldogs' last game in which Jack had run the ball 40 yards.   
He looked confused when he reappeared in the doorway. "I didn't know you were at that game."   
Bitty chuckled a little. "Trust me," He said, turning the monitor of Coach's computer so Jack could see that the film from last week's game was playing. "I usually have better things to do, but I'm stuck here."   
Jack just put a hand over his heart and said, "Ouch."   
"Stop throwing to Nathanson," Bitty reasoned as he rotated the screen, "And maybe I could handle it."   
He wasn't looking, but Bitty could tell Jack was giving him a pretty special look right about then. "Nathanson is our best receiver."   
"He was your best receiver," Bitty promised, "You've only thrown to Hops twice in three games."   
"Hops just isn't—"   
"Nathanson, I know. Just, here," Bitty said, standing up and walking around the desk to face Jack straight on. He stuck his arms out to the side and said, "Go like this."   
Jack looked a little apprehensive, but obeyed.   
"Now bring them down," Bitty instructed, arms sailing smoothly to form circle drawn in front of his torso.   
Jack's arms made a  _ smack _ as they hit his sides. Bitty physically cringed. He briefly wondered what he thought he was doing, making the biggest football legacy ever do ballet. Bitty raised his arms again, out like wings, and then down again.   
"Like that."   
Jack's arms flapped gracelessly.   
Bitty huffed. "Do you see what I mean? You're so stiff," He said, taking Jack's wrists and drawing slow quarter circles, up and down. "Last year, you watched Porter throw to Nathanson 90% of the time. But just because Porter did something, doesn't mean you have to. Read the play. Throw to Hops now and then. Lighten up."   
"I think you're light enough for the both of us," Jack teased. He grabbed Bitty around the waist and pull him out into the hallway. Bitty instantly screamed, laughing and smacking at whatever he could hit.   
"Eric!" They suddenly heard, and Bitty was set down gently but quickly.   
"Coach," Jack said.   
Bitty swung around. "Hey Coach."   
Coach did not look happy as he led a pinstripe suit down the hall and into his office. "I just need a minute with Mr. Smith," He explained, glaring as he pulled the door shut behind them.   
Jack looked at Bitty. "I'm sorry."   
"Don't sweat it sweetheart," Bitty said, settling into one of the chairs outside the door. "Coach ain't that tough with me."   
Jack chose the chair next to Bitty. "So you obviously know football, why don't you play for us?"   
Bitty smirked. "Well, the Athens High Eagles would miss their star receiver, but I appreciate the invite."   
Jack's face actually changed expression. "You... Okay. Got it."   
"I'll be at training camp next summer, though, if the Coach hasn't grounded me by then."   
Jack chuckled along. They listened, for a moment, to the dull sounds of adult conversation finding its way through the frosted glass. "How'd you get stuck here with nothing better to do than watch my highlights?"   
Bitty gave him a look of warning. "Please don't show that game to any scouts."   
To which Jack gave another heartfelt, "Ouch."   
Bitty patted his shoulder and confessed, "I have ballet in Ramsey on Wednesdays."   
"Oh, that was all the..." Jack didn't finish his sentence, just waved his arms around in an approximation of the first and second arm positions in ballet.   
"Yeah, uh, dance lessons can be really effective cross-training for football players."   
  
\+ Not the next game, but the one after that   
Bitty gave up on the offices and headed towards the lounge, twirling his dad's hat around one finger. Georgia red accents in the locker room turned into an engulfing theme, smells turning from stale to sweaty. As soon as Bitty turned the corner, Jack Zimmermann appeared. "Hey Bitty," He said, stopping and looking a little surprised. He was already dressed, carrying his helmet in one hand. "Here to wish us luck?"   
Bitty rolled his eyes. "You wish. I'm just looking for Coach. He forgot his lucky hat," He admitted, flashing the Nike logo on the plain black fabric.   
"Coach Bittle?" Jack confirmed, then put on a little smile. "What do I get if I tell you?"   
Bitty paused a moment, then leaned to the side to look around Jack. Everyone's favourite second-string running back, B. 'Shitty' Knight, was pulling on his jersey by the lockers. "Hey Shitty?"    
The poor kid wasn't used to be addressed. He looked around wildly, then found Bitty's gaze and pointed at himself. "Me?"   
"Where's Coach Bittle?"   
Shitty pointed back the way Bitty came. "Trainer's room."   
Jack threw Shitty a disappointed look. Then, "You know Shitty?"   
"I know of him, because I know everything,  _ mon amoureux _ ," Bitty drawled in mispronounced French.   
At another locker, an offensive lineman called Ransom laughed. "Dude, you just called Jack your boyfriend."   
Bitty quirked an eyebrow. "I know."   
Jack just shook his head and announced, "Ransom, stick to English."   
" _ S'il vous plait, chef _ —"   
Bitty just backed off as Ransom teased in the little French he knew. Jack started to go his own way, but Bitty spoke again. "And Jack?"   
He swung around. "Yeah?"   
"Don't mess up."   
-   
Bitty watched the game from the stands with his mother. The Bulldogs won. People poured onto the field to talk to the team, with Bitty and Suzanne making the tail end of that crowd. Bitty left his mom to find Coach and went over to meet Jack.   
Jack immediately pulled Bitty into a very sweaty hug. He complained about the opposing defense and Bitty complimented each of the four touchdowns he threw individually. Then some coaches started approaching so Jack left Bitty with, "I'll see you around?"   
  
\+ Two Wednesdays later   
Olivia   
Olivia: party this saturday!! see you there?   
Olivia: you can meet will!   
Bitty: idk, it's a bye week so my mom's probably planning some family bonding time   
Olivia: shame :/    
Olivia: shit, i'm gonna be late   
Olivia: can you tell mme bev i'll be there soon?   
Bitty: if you're late because of will, then no   
Olivia: no!!!   
Olivia: i couldn't find my tights let me live   
Bitty: girl!   
Bitty: we're already warming up   
Olivia: i'm almost there   
  
Clipboard brothers, 4 members   
Shitty: Saturday. Warehouse party. Attendance is mandatory.   
Ransom: i'm down   
Holster: [beers clinking emoji]   
Jack: No thanks   
Shitty: yes thanks!!!!   
Jack: We all need the rest   
Holster: jack this is our ONLY bye week   
Ransom: pwetty pwease!   
Shitty: Jack this chick invited me she's super cool    
Shitty: You'd like her she's studying visual art   
Ransom: shitty's out here tryna get laid man. help him out   
  
\+ That Saturday   
Jack distinctly remembers  _ not  _ agreeing to go to this party, but sure enough, he found himself in a warehouse way past his bedtime on Saturday night. He nursed a single beer and stood by the wall with Ransom and Holster. Shitty was off discussing visual art. It was mostly UGA students, and some people recognized Jack as the quarterback, so now and then someone came over to talk to them for a minute.    
So when a bubbling blonde who was definitely not 21 found his way to them, Jack was chill at first.   
Then he saw who it was.   
-   
"Liv," Bitty hissed up at Olivia, who was pretending to find her conversation with Will interesting.    
She looked over. "What?"   
"You didn't tell me the football team was gonna be here?"   
Olivia looked around frantically. "Oh shit. Are you gonna get in trouble?"   
"No," Bitty said, knowing the guys who were here were also underage. "It's fine. I'll catch you later," He wished, though she was already laughing at Will again.   
Bitty breathed. If Jack Zimmermann was here, they were going to see each other eventually, so Bitty should probably just get it over with now. He downed the rest of his beer and started towards the clump of football players by the wall.    
"Hey boys," He greeted, arriving in front of them. All three looked shocked once they realized he was there. "Look, I won't tell Coach if you won't, okay?"   
"Athens High bye week too?" Ransom asked, warming up to the conversation. Holster was too, but Jack still looked rattled.   
Bitty laughed. "Every week's a bye week when your games are on Thursdays, okay? But, oh my god, every year, my mom decides my dad is spending too much time at work and makes us take up yoga together or some shit."   
Ransom and Holster laughed. Even Jack was cracking a smile now. As if on cue, a marimba melody started over the speakers, and a bunch of dancing people screamed.    
Bitty turned towards the dance floor automatically. "Oh my god I love this song!" He yelled into the crowd, then spun back around until he faced Jack head on. "Wanna dance?"   
Jack just shook his head, keeping his red cup close to his face as a last line of defense.   
"Come on."   
He wouldn't budge.   
Bitty stepped forwards. He coaxed Jack's hand down and pointed at him. "One dance. Promise me."   
Jack let it stay like that for a moment, precious seconds of  _ The Greatest _ ticking away, Ransom and Holster staring enraptured at their impasse. Then he shrugged and said, "One dance."   
Bitty winked as he backed off and announced, "I'll find you if you don't find me!" He waded across the dance floor until he found his ballet friends and started dancing like his life depended on it.   
-   
"Dude."   
"Holy  _ shit _ ."   
Jack just shook his head and sipped his beer, not wanting to give them anything. He tried not to stare as Bitty went to dance with a group of tall, gangly girls. Eventually, Ransom and Holster got bored of screaming about the smile that still haunted Jack's face and fucked off to find Shitty.   
Jack watched people come and go. He watched people give him weird looks and his backup kicker, Bully, nod once at him and then disappear. He watched people dancing, Bitty dancing. At the next song, a couple guys joined Bitty's group. At the next song, one of them started dancing particularly close to Bitty, who seemed super into it. At the next song, something slower with lots of piano, Jack couldn't handle the way that guy was looking at Bitty.    
Jack threw back the rest of his beer and headed over. He tapped the other guy on his shoulder and said, "My turn."   
The visitor looked insulted, but Bitty just waved him off and slung his arms around Jack's neck. "Thought you'd lost your nerve."   
And Jack said, "Just waiting for the right song." You know, like a liar.   
Jack put his hands low on Bitty's waist and smiled down. They swayed, feeling the music and trying not to feel the other people dancing around them. "So, how was your game this week?"   
Bitty scoffed. "J.R. threw great, but my d-line... Bless their hearts."   
Jack had lived in Georgia for two years now, so he knew that to be an insult. "Yikes. You won't have to worry about that next year. Mills is amazing," He gushed.   
But Bitty just looked uncomfortable. "If I play for UGA next year."   
Jack frowned. "Why wouldn't you?" He asked automatically, and he realized he really wanted Bitty to come to UGA next year.   
"It's just like, do I really want my dad in charge of every part of my life? I could go somewhere else. J.R. is doing it," He reasoned.   
Jack nodded along. He knew there was some wise-friend advice he should be giving, but he couldn't say anything other than, "You and J.R.. Is that a thing?"   
"He wishes," Bitty answered, then managed a small smile. "No. I'm single."   
Jack didn't respond, just smiled back, then figured out something wise-sounding. "Being coached by your own dad sounds like a lot. But if you move out, there are plenty of other things to struggle with," He explained, and Bitty seemed to remember just then that Jack moved a thousand miles away to play in the NCAA. "But, I think there is something to be said for getting to know a team before you play together. All the coaches love you, you know the guys."   
Bitty nodded, but didn't say anything back. He just stepped closer and laid his head on Jack's shoulder. They stayed like that, swaying and turning. At one point, Bitty mumbled, "Thanks."   
Once the next song started, they slowed to a stop. Bitty pulled himself off and took half a step—just a half—back.    
Jack looked down. Bitty looked up. Their arms were still entwined. They were so close, and warm, and Jack was feeling the rest of that beer. So when Bitty reached up and put his mouth on Jack's, he got into it pretty quickly. Jack pulled Bitty closer as he moved his lips.    
Suddenly, Bitty's mouth slipped away, but Jack looked and it didn't go far. Bitty moved his hands and they landed on his chest—and pushed Jack until he was walking backwards. Around a few people, he landed in a leather recliner.    
Jack watched, eyes wide open, as Bitty smirked and climbed into his lap. Bitty kissed him again, fingers playing at the nape of Jack's neck. Jack tried to ignore everything that was happening below his waist. His hands found the back pockets of Bitty's shorts, which made Bitty squirm, which only made things more excited all over.    
Bitty's tongue was having fun, poking and exploring Jack's mouth. Jack was having fun poking back, challenging Bitty. Jack's fingers flexed where they lay, and Bitty made little noises when he did. They kissed and ignored what people said when they passed. They kissed and ignored it when the song changed. They kissed and ignored their phones buzzing.    
Until Bitty sat up and breathed.    
Jack breathed too. He smiled up.    
Bitty looked a little nervous when he said, "We should probably..."   
Jack got the message loud and clear. "Press pause?"   
"Yeah," Bitty said. He climbed off, looking a little sheepish, and helped Jack up too.   
"I should find my friends," Jack said, motioning backwards though there was nothing behind him but a wall, "But, can I have your number?"   
Bitty pretended to be annoyed. "If you must," He resigned, taking it upon himself to slip Jack's phone out of his back pocket. Jack graciously offered his fingerprint.   
Once Jack had his phone back and Bitty had a text from an unknown number, Bitty moved to leave. But Jack managed to touch Bitty's face and swoop in for one last kiss.   
Over as quick as it started, Jack just smiled as he stepped around Bitty and headed towards the kitchen.    
-   
"I just made out with Coach Bittle's son."   
"What?"   
"Holy shit."   
  
\+ The next day   
Bitty: last night was really fun <3   
Jack: yeah it was! thanks for being so cool about everything, i don't really do that very much   
Bitty: hah! me neither   
Jack: would you believe last night was my first party?   
Bitty: no i would not   
Jack: well, first not at the haus   
Bitty: wait the haus is real???   
Bitty: i thought it was a myth or some shit   
Jack: nope haha i’ve lives there for a year!   
Bitty: a football frat house. extremely cursed concept   
Jack: you should come see it sometime. wild after parties on saturdays :)   
Bitty: sure sounds like fun!   
Jack: :)   
Bitty: you live there with your o-line buddies?   
Jack: yeah, and shitty and johnson   
Bitty: johnson my man! that's wild   
  
\+ The night of the next game   
"They won!" Bitty said, and Laura cheered from the other side of her bedroom. Bitty got up off the floor and moved for his bag, watching her meticulously paint her nails purple. "Okay. I gotta go."   
Laura smiled up at him. "Have fun!"   
Bitty breathed. He took two steps and put his hand on her bedroom door handle, then stopped. "Just remember—"   
"If your parents call, you're already asleep and I can imitate my parents' voices fine. Go."   
Bitty smiled and said, "Thanks, girl," And left.   
-   
The Haus's reputation preceded it, but so did the sound. Bitty was still a block away when he heard the pounding music and vague shouting. As Bitty's truck approached, he found the entire building lit up on an otherwise dark street, with people spilling out of every orifice and onto the front lawn. He drove a minute past it to find a parking space.   
He fought through crowds for a few minutes before spying a familiar running back, going over and finding the quarterback he was looking for. "Hey Jack."   
Jack lit up. "Hey!" He said, pulling Bitty into a side hug and squeezing quickly. Everyone was packed so close together, no one could see Jack's hand run smoothly down Bitty's side before he took a dutiful step away.    
"Congrats on the win," Bitty wished, then looked up at Jack, again, "I heard you threw two hundred and fifty yards."   
Jack shrugged, but he was smiling. "Yeah.  Hops was right where I needed him to be."   
Bitty gaped and looked around, but no one shared his vigour. "What did I say?"   
"Yeah yeah," Jack said, sipping something from a red cup.   
After Jack was done talking about his take on the game and Bitty was done teasing him for every last decision, Ransom and Holster talked about the tackles. Ransom got a sack, and Holster took down the same running back so many times, he almost started shit on the field. The coach pulled him out before anything could happen, though. Shitty had some decent blocks in the third quarter. Then he started complaining about the other team's d-line, though Bitty wasn't sure if he was making an actual argument or just rambling.   
It was around this time that Jack offered to show Bitty around the Haus. The other three endorsed the idea so quickly, Bitty knew instantly that they knew what had happened last time Jack and Bitty were at a party together.   
Jack led him through a maze of rooms on the first floor, including a very dirty kitchen with good bones that Bitty would be returning to at some point, and eventually up a set of stairs and under a line of caution tape.    
"Are we going to get in trouble?" Bitty asked.   
"Only if we get caught," Jack said back, with just enough emotion in his voice for Bitty to know he was joking. Bitty giggled as Jack pulled him into a bedroom, where he instantly felt like he'd been transported into a Sears catalogue.   
The room was very very tidy, way too much so for a college student. Everything was plain and organized. Even the posters were lined up, and perfectly spaced. "Wow," Bitty said. He took in the room quickly before Jack's arms were tangling around him and pulling him close.   
Their eyes locked for a split second in understanding before Jack leaned down and kissed Bitty. Lips moving quickly, their mouths were just properly reacquainted when Jack pulled away again. "Missed you," He said, walking backwards and sinking onto his bed.   
Bitty just kept looking around. "This is some room."   
"Thanks, I think."   
Bitty took the liberty of walking over and sitting in the big brown armchair that no college student should own yet fit perfectly in Jack's room. "So, how are you?" Bitty asked, scanning the bookshelf next to his seat.    
"I'm good. Class is fine, and we've got another W on the board, so that's good."   
"Hm," Bitty said, finger landing on a copy of  _ Hamlet _ . He looked over at Jack, who was smiling. "Everyone worries about something. What are you worrying about?"

"Worrying?" Jack repeated, as if surprised by the word. Bitty just gave him an expectant look and turned back to the books, trying to sift through obscure history texts for authors Bitty recognized. Eventually, Jack said, "Well, my parents are going to come down from Montréal to see a game, so I have to organize them. Other than that, there's just this really cute boy who refuses to come to my football games."   
Bitty gave up when the titles started to sound like cookies. "I'm sure he has better things to do," He said, standing up and sitting on the edge of Jack's bed.   
Jack left his corner and came to sat cross-legged facing Bitty. "Seriously," He said, "Your parents are there, and you want to play with us next year... I don't get it."   
Panic or nerves or something flashed in Bitty's stomach, at the sincerity in Jack's voice and the vulnerability of the whole situation. He shrugged a little. "A lot of it is just teenage rebellion," Bitty admitted, "But also, until last summer, the Clark Atlanta Panthers were my whole life. I don't remember  _ not _ going to games. I was obsessed with them, but it was all because my dad was the coach. When he moved schools, I didn't want to obsess anymore. I wanted to be a regular kid who applies a bunch of places and gets rejected by most of them. Plus, now I have to make a Division I team instead of Division II, so I'm kind of freaking out."   
That Jack laughed at, which was nice. He accepted the explanation and they moved on to something that involved a little less talking. Jack stopped it once Bitty started to get handsy, so they enjoyed socializing and losing at beer pong until Laura texted Bitty and he went to hers for the night. Jack discreetly squeezed Bitty's hand as he left, with a quiet promise to see him soon.   
  
\+ Two Wednesdays later   
Someone knocked twice on the door. When Bitty raised his head, he saw Jack Zimmermann look both ways down the hall before walking towards him. "Hey cutie," He said, leaning over Coach's desk to capture Bitty's lips in a quick kiss.   
"Hey handsome," Bitty replied, as Jack sank into the chair across from him. Bitty slid the computer to the side a little.    
"How was ballet?" Jack asked.   
Bitty nodded. "Good. Long.  _ Madamoiselle _ Bev would not shut up about  _ port de bras _ ."   
" _ Et où porter-tu ton bras _ ?" Jack asked, wondering where exactly Mme. Bev was instructing his arms to go.   
Scandal drew over Bitty's face. "I have no idea what you just said but I feel like I should slap you."   
"Speaking of French," Jack said, and Bitty shot him a speculative look, "My parents will be in town next week. They'll be around, meet my friends. If you're at the game, you'll meet them—we definitely don't have to tell them we're...whatever we are."   
There were so many emotions playing around inside Bitty, it was a wonder he managed to speak. "Dating. We're dating. And I'd love to meet your parents."   
Jack smiled. "Just not as—"   
"As a friend," Bitty clarified. He avoided Jack's gaze, sitting a little straighter and and drinking from his water bottle. He looked out at the hallway as he shut down Coach's computer.    
Then, Jack laid one hand over Bitty's. It suddenly occurred to Bitty that Jack was here, and he understood so many parts of Bitty's life, he had to resist the urge to start talking and never stop.    
Instead, he just breathed and smiled. "'S tricky with my parents," Bitty said, retracting his hand and getting up.    
Jack shook off the rest of the moment and stood as well. "Ready to go?"   
Bitty smiled as he hiked his bag over his shoulder. "Yep."    
They snuck one more kiss before heading out to Jack's car.

 

\+ Next week  

Bitty went to the Haus on Thursday night. He brought a maple apple pie. Jack's parents were hanging out, and there was tourtiere, which meant Shitty, Ransom, and Holster were also chilling in the kitchen. Bitty was introduced as Coach Bittle's son. He tried to convince the Zimmermann’s the pie was for them and them only, but they insisted it be shared and enjoyed right then. 

They asked Bitty if he played football so he explained he played for a local high school. “I’m definitely sending my highlights to the Bulldogs’ coach, though.”

“That's good,” Robert said, totally serious among the chuckles. Frankly, it gave Bitty shivers to have Bad Bob comment even that vaguely on the mere mention that Bitty played football. “Jack needs another strong receiver.”

“Hops is great.”

“Hops is—” Bitty started, then stopped when he realized he and Jack had spoken at the same time. “Sorry, you go.”

Jack looked concerned. “We were just saying earlier that Hops isn't quick but he's fast. He's really good running post. Bitty pointed that out to me,” He said, and suddenly 10 eyes were on him.

Bitty breathed and said, “I watch a lot of tape.”

 

-

“12:30. Kelly's going to chaperone them,” Coach finally admitted, after Bitty pestered him all game-day morning about the Zimmermanns. He was clicking wildly on his computer while Bitty sat across from him, trying to look as innocent as possible.

Bitty tutted. “Call her off. I can show them around, no problem.”

Coach didn't stop scowling. He never did, really. “She's a professional, okay Eric?”

“So she has better things to do than make conversation with two non-investors,” Bitty reasoned. Coach looked especially irked by that, but it was true that Kelly's PR position was 90% funding related. 

Coach just sighed a little before saying, “Paul from security will be by their side all day. They're in the north box. They're going straight to the team meal after the game. Get a security badge from Hall's office.”

Bitty's heart soared. “Thanks, Coach,” He said, and started to stand up.

But Coach said, “Eric?” And looked Bitty in the eyes for the first time in days. “Do you know what you're doing?”

He was asking a lot all at once.  _ Can you represent the school appropriately? Can you represent me? Can you manage not to make a fool of yourself? Do you promise you're doing this for the right reasons—whatever those reasons are I can't imagine? _ The answer was, always, “Yes, Coach.”

 

-

“Eric! What a lovely surprise,” Alicia Zimmermann said. 

“Hello, good morning!” Bitty gushed. As she and Bob hugged him, Kelly looked on with wide eyes. She had insisted on at least greeting them, but Bitty sensed she was realizing that wasn't necessary. He considered introducing Kelly for a moment, only a moment, before remembering she was in PR, and spent most of her day introducing herself to people.

“Kelly Matheson,” She announced, shaking the Zimmermanns’ hands. “Nice to meet you. Bitty is very capable of showing you around, of course, but please find me if you need anything else.” 

Then Kelly left. The Zimmermanns had already seen most of the facilities, so Bitty talked a little about the stadium before leading them up to the north box to watch the game. Pausing outside on the staircase, they stopped to look down over the field where the Bulldogs were still practicing. Jack was walking towards the sideline—insignified by the white 1 on his chest--and seemed to be looking vaguely at the crowd. Alicia instantly reacted, gracefully raising one hand to wave. Bob copied her, and sure enough Jack waved briefly.

That got a lot of attention quick, as people started turning around and looking for the celebrities, which made Paul a little nervous. “Let’s move along,” He announced from the back of their parade, and so the Zimmermanns proceeded into the box. 

In the box, there was nothing to do but sit and talk—or stand and listen, for Paul—so they did. They talked about the opposing team and the Bulldogs’ offence. They talked about Coach Bittle and Bitty’s life in Georgia. He talked about playing for the Bulldogs next year.

offence. They talked about Coach Bittle and Bitty's life in Georgia. They talked about how he might play for the Bulldogs next year. 

Bitty was a people person, and football was his life. He managed to ignore the facts that these people were internationally famous and the parents of the boy he was dating, at least for a couple hours.    
  
+   
Bitty told his parents the day winter break started. Winter break meant four weeks off from football, at least for the players—the longest break Coach Bittle and Zimmermann had from each other all year. He told them he was gay and dating Jack. He said they had the break to get over it, then went to Laura's for a Christmas party. When he got back home at noon the next day, both his parents hugged him, and by the first Monday evening practice in January, Coach was over it. He even put one of those Positive Space posters with the upside-down rainbow triangles on the locker room door and his office. (Jack also told his parents around this time. They were cool with it. Surprise couldn't travel 2000 kilometres.)   
  
Bitty applied to a bunch of schools. He got into Clark Atlanta, Ohio State, LIU Post, and UGA. He went to UGA. He convinced his parents to let him live in residence for at least first year. He spent what little summer he had before training camp working out with the team, namely, Jack. And Shitty, Ransom, and Holster. They let Bitty bake at the Haus and he let them scream at him until he worked it off.   
Training camp rolled around. Bitty wasn't the best reciever on the field, but two of UGA's top receivers had just graduated, so no one batted an eye when he made the team. His parents were really proud. He moved into residence and the preseason started.    
Last year, the Bulldogs had done well. They didn't make the playoffs, but played the Orange Bowl and won. This year, there was something in the water. They were dominating. They made it all the way to the semifinal game, and Bitty caught a touchdown in the third quarter that the Gators never made up for. They were going to the championship.   
Before the final game, Jack and Bitty locked themselves in a bathroom and just hugged for a couple minutes.   
Jack said, "Whatever happens, I love you."   
Bitty said, "You're going to do amazing, sweetie."   
Their new kicker Chowder made a 40 yard punt to put them ahead by one point in the last two minutes. The Georgia Bulldogs won the NCAA Division I Football Championship.   
People were screaming and crying. It wasn't long before Jack and Bitty were back in that hugging position, though this time they were in public and much, much sweatier.    
"I love you so much," Jack whispered, mouth pressed into Bitty's head.   
"I love you too."   
Neither let go. After a moment, Jack said, "God Bits, I wish I could kiss you."   
Bitty seized at the thought. He stepped back, thinking about the steps they'd taken to keep their relationship quiet, thinking about the cameras and all the people, all the strangers. Still, Bitty said, "Kiss me."   
"What? We can't," Jack answered automatically, like a robot.   
"Why not?” Bitty countered, feeling himself really getting behind this idea he had spit out on a whim. "You want to. I want to. Why can't we?" He dismissed thoughts about heteronormativity and this not being the best time to challenge it, instead focusing on the interest growing in Jack's eyes.   
"Yeah," Jack said, "Yeah."   
"Kiss me," Bitty repeated, and a split second later, their mouths met.   
  


+

A myriad group of adults decided Jack and Bitty should visit Montréal. What a lovely vacation! All the sights, sounds, and tastes! They drank up everything the city—and the Zimmermanns—had to offer and did their best to stay off the internet. Bitty worried about things, but Jack assured he wouldn't change a thing about his last NCAA game ever.

 

They started the winter semester under the radar. Bitty baked a lot. Jack sat in the kitchen a lot.

 

Jack got an invite to the National Scouting Combine, which meant he was on track to get recruited to the NFL. It took him a few days and conversations with Bitty, his friends, his coaches, and his parents, but he got back into the gym and started working again.

 

At the Senior Awards Gala at the beginning of the summer, Jack got trophies for being Offensive Team captain, Offensive MVP, and the David Jacobs award for overcoming adversity. For the last one, he got onstage and said some awkward thank yous. Then he looked down at Bitty…and just stared. It didn’t last long, and he couldn’t get any words out, but the way Jack’s eyes met Bitty’s…he didn’t have to say anything more. 

**Author's Note:**

> Yaaaay thank you for reading!
> 
> Don't worry, Bitty was one of the six Newcomers of the Year. Chowder was another. Ransom was Defensive MVP.
> 
> Let me know what you liked and what you want to see next in the comments!!


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